


Hypertrophic Keloid

by SweetlyNeurotic



Series: The Adventures of a Dedicated Apothecary [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top/Bot/Vers, tragic past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26922664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetlyNeurotic/pseuds/SweetlyNeurotic
Summary: By definition a 'Hypertrophic Keloid' is a scar that doesn't heal properly.Some scars are just not visible to the eye.Azalian is about to get a visit from his past, will his research be worth the awkwardness and trouble?Set between Legion and BFA.
Relationships: Mage/Priest, Male Blood Elf | Elves/Male Blood Elf | Elves (Warcraft), OC/OC, Telemancer/Apothecary
Series: The Adventures of a Dedicated Apothecary [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956679
Kudos: 4





	Hypertrophic Keloid

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my new best pal, Talanye!  
> Enjoy~!

“Like I was saying in my letters, if I ask them they are going to deny my request. Yet, if I had you ask them...”

The soft clinking of his teacup against its saucer was drowned out from the usual hustle and bustle of Netherlight Temple, Priests of all sizes and backgrounds coming and going at their leisure. Azalian Duskweave, a Holy Priest in his own right, often came to the Temple to talk with its Archbishop Alonsus Faol disguised as having business meetings on Temple upkeep. A Forsaken yet not affiliated, he often checked in on him with his salves and was fascinated on the non-decomposing state of his body. A Lightforged Undead was always a fascinating concept, but with barely any tangible evidence it wasn't worth spending the research time on.

Alas, as he sat with the Archbishop and discussed his latest research project, he couldn't help but be comforted in his presence. “My dear lad, if I asked the Kirin Tor for this guide you seem to so desperately need they will ask questions. Could you give me anything to sedate their curiosity?” Alonsus spoke plainly and truthfully, his words echoing with understanding in that almost-there Forsaken drawl. Azalian sighed and placed his teacup on the table, standing upright to begin his speech about his latest conclusions for his salve.

The brunette Sin'dorei theorized that now that the Legion had been recently scattered from the halls of Karazhan once again and the defenses turned off by Khadgar, there was boundless tomes in their halls and libraries that could prove useful to him and the Alchemy world as a whole. The techniques locked in those tomes and the knowledge that could be discovered could change the formulation synthesis structure of how they handle high-level experimentation. All he needed was a day, even two, to look through their records and see what he could find. Azalian was positive something was there, he was sure of it.

“The Horde doesn't even need to be mentioned or my Forsaken roots, I'm just an Apothecary Priest looking for more ways to better ease my patients suffering.” He spoke hopeful, almost painful in his determination to have the Archbishop speak on his behalf. The Undead Priest, listening intently to him his entire speech, simply nodded and gave him this typical all-knowing nod.

“Very well, I will petition them as a personal favor to the Conclave. Thought I will ask for not only their permission, but someone to accompany you as well. We can't let our guard down, even as fresh as we are from the Legion's defeat.” He spoke this a wisdom Azalian wondered if he'd have time in his life to accomplish, he had to restrain himself from leaping off the ground. He helped Alonsus up from his chair, thanking him heavily and repeatedly. The Dark Lady, or rather the Warchief, would be most pleased with his success. The Archbishop reminded him to not get his hopes up just yet, there was still the approval to get first. Azalian smiled warmly at the Archbishop and nodded.

“No matter how long it takes them to deliberate, I will remain steadfast in devotion to the cause”

It took two weeks for Azalian to receive the news his wish had been granted. Within a day, he was packed and ready for his next adventure. He was granted two days to conduct his investigation in one of the newly accessible libraries, complete with a Silver Convenient guide and bodyguard in the event security measures were to suddenly reactivate. The brunette, clad in his normal black-and-purple traveling clothes, was nothing short of appreciative of the Archbishop in the letter delivered to him as he arrived in Dalaran's Violet Citadel. Normally the Archmages of the Kirin Tor were gathered here, but the resounding emptiness save for a few attendants signified he was simply supposed to wait for his guide to show. He took the opportunity to reach into his pack, shifting the contents in the bag for a pair of black wooden hairpins. A gift from a Dark Ranger he was friendly with, he held them in his teeth and he gathered up his long hair and wrapped it into a bun. He used the sticks, mimicking the fletching on Dark Ranger arrows, to lock the bun in place to prevent fall out.

“G'morning sir! You must be the Apothecary I was asked to meet here, yes?”

Footsteps coming down the stairs that lead to the second floor portals caught his attention, Azalian turned at the hip to see his apparent guide coming down the last few steps. The...High Elf?...Mage came to just the same height as he did. Blue eyes taking him in with a smile that seemed to fade as if making a forgotten connection. Soot black hair, short and spiky on top with two thin braids. A small tuft of chin hair and some just below his bottom lip. A memory of a boy long ago, a long lost friend? Playing in the forests of Quel'thalas, a girl older than them both, a friend? A sibling? A lifetime ago, a long dead person's memories. Those children were dead, long dead after the arrival of the Lich King at their gates.

The Priest knew this Mage. He struggled to put his finger on it, the pair staring at each other and taking the other in. The mage was struggling to speak, as if his words were stuck in his throat and he had seen some type of apparition. Azalian stiffened, not wanting to remember and not caring to remember. He couldn't recall how he knew this Mage, but he had work to do. He stuck out a hand in greeting, “Yes indeed, I am Apothecary Duskweave. The pleasure is mine.” He said formally, the perplexed Mage lacing his own hand into Azalian's and gave it a small shake. A spark shivered up Azalian's arm, he knew this touch. Why did he know this touch.

“Oh, Telemancer Felgate! I see you've met your charge for the next fort-eight hours! Good luck in there, Talanye.” Another Convenient Mage descended the stairs, a red-headed human clad in blues and gold. He gave this Talanye a smack on the shoulder with a hearty laugh as he passed the pair, nearly knocking the Mage over as he wishing them well on their travels before heading outside the Citadel. The felcolored green of Azalian's eyes flashed a moment as the realization set in. He indeed knew this Mage, and his facial expression soured.

Talanye. Talanye. Talanye.

Talanye, on the other hand, couldn't believe who he was standing in front of after nearly sixteen years. He watched the soft features on Priests face sour and he immediately felt guilty, seems time had not improved what befell them. “Pardon my blunt speaking but...Azalian, isn't it?” He said, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his head as the other went to his hip. He had believed all from his village and neighboring villages had been killed by the Lich King's invasion, no one reported anyone surviving. Not his mother, not his sister, and especially not his first love. Yet here the brunette stood in front of him, defying those odds and staring at him sourly. 

“...Yes, my name is Azalian. Let us be on our way, Telemancer.” The priest spoke coldly and it stung at Talanye's core, not pushing the awkward moment any longer as he began weaving a portal. “This will take us to the Swamp of Sorrows, from there we will book a flight griffin to carry us the rest of the way to Karazhan. The latent arcane energy makes teleporting in difficult, but entertaining to say the least for a single traveler.” Talanye tried to explain with as much a upbeat tone as he could, the sleeves on his white-and-purple tunic blowing gently as the portal took form.

Azalian only nodded, lost in his anger and shocked at the circumstances to what his adventure had become. He indeed knew Talanye, they were childhood friends and Talanye's elder sister was like a mentor to him in his Priesthood. About sixteen years ago, they were almost coupled, but a broken promise and the Lich King's invasion closed the book on that long ago as it did many things. He assumed Talanye was either dead or had vanished into some portal never to return. He almost wished he had. Some scars do not have have to be visible to still ache.

As the portal stabilized and Talanye led him through, the damp swamp greeted the pair with heart and humidity. Stonard connected them as close to Karazhan as possible, as they moved about the camp Azalian took in the sights of the Swamp once more. He had studied the algae that grew around the lost Temple in the lake not too far from here; it was a good base for a numbing additive in most liquid concoctions. Talanye was busy securing their flight, the griffin trotting alongside him as he approached the Priest. “Our ride has been secured, we leave at your command.” He spoke to Azalian, offering him a hand to help him up onto the griffins large saddle. Instead Azalian sighed and levitated himself up, brushing past the Mage and taking his seat up towards the front of the saddle. Talanye too sighed and hopped up himself, finding his place behind the Priest and the pair took off into the sky.

The take off proved a bit turbulent, startling Azalian and nearly causing him to lose his balance on the saddle. Talanye caught him around the waist and pulled him to his chest, one arm holding him in place as the order held the reigns. “Hey now, I''ve gotcha'.” He spoke louder due to the breeze whipping by them, his arm now moving from around the Priests waist for his safety. Azalian's face flushed a soft pink, not saying anything in response and accepting his fate that this would be the longest flight he'd ever experienced.

Talanye kept the griffin on a smooth flight, trying to distract himself from the plushness of Azalian's backside pressing into his groin. Boy, the younger Priest sure did fill out in the last sixteen years. While not growing much taller, Azalian had filled out in the best places and his tight trousers sure didn't leave much for the Telemancer to imagine of his backside. Was he even wearing undergarments for goodness sake? His face turned stern and he bit at the inside of his bottom lip, Azalian's backside slowly rubbing against the arousal brewing in his pants. The worst time to pop an erection over an ex-almost-boyfriend. As the pair crossed the mountains into Deadwind Pass, the towers of Karazhan greeted them in the distance like a beacon of gloom in the overcast sky.

The dark-haired elf steered their griffin in it's decent towards the entrance of their destination, gliding past the ruined houses and floating spirits that still wandered the grounds. The residual Fel energy still was evident in the air, but much weaker than when the Legion had secretly tried to inhabit the former stronghold of one of Azeroth's most skilled Mages. The pair dislodged from the griffin on opposite sides of each other, Talanye taking a moment to readjust himself as Azalian took lead and headed for the entrance.

They presented their intentions for being there to the front guards of Mages, who allowed them entry through the iron gates that barricaded the front door. It was Azalian's first time here, finding himself in a small amount of awe as he gazed upon the lower entrance hall they found themselves in. “I don't think I anticipated it being so...big...” He said, adjusting the traveling pack that hung over his shoulder as Talanye came up to stand beside him.

“Well thank you, I get compliments on it often.”

“...I was referring to this entrance hall, Telemancer.”

Azalian's footsteps echoing against the marble flooring indicated he was not interested in this game of playful banter, Talanye briskly jogging up to get in front of him to help lead them towards the Menagerie where the new Libraries had been located on the fourth floor. The pair walked in silence, Azalian gripping several of his empty scrolls for notes to his chest with both arms and Talanye walking with both hands up behind his head. They had nothing to say to each other, and yet had everything to say to each other. It would be Talanye who would break the silence as he led them up the first set of stone stairs between the first and second floors.

“....so, about when I left...”  
“That was a special day.”  
“Yes, it was Azalian. My dream was to pursue the arcane and Dalaran was the key to it. I had to go.”  
“And you HAD to leave myself and everyone behind to our fates. Not even a week had passed before the Lich King arrived at OUR doorstep, Tal. And where were you? In Dalaran, with your head in the clouds.”

Azalian's words were sharp and Talanye was on the defensive. The Mage knew nothing he would say could calm the anger and betrayal of his not coming home to defend them against the Lich King. By the time word had reached Dalaran of the invasion and Kel'Thuzad's resurrection, he was too deep into his Telemancy studies to pull out and run back home to the carnage of the massacre. Would that have honored his family, friends, and his blossoming love if he just packed up and potentially lost his own life in the midst of the remaining Scourge forces in Eversong Woods? No, he owed it to them to focus on his studies and continue on for them. When the handfuls of survivors were reported it, there was not a single mention of Azalian or his family. What was he to do? What did he want from him? Talanye felt the tension building in his head as they continued along the halls of the second floor.

“....even if I had heard about the attack, there was no way we could have gotten there in time. I thought about going back afterwards, looking for myself. I didn't want-”  
“You didn't want to see my broken body torn into pieces on the steps of my house. Like I had to as we fled into the main city. You remember Zyndra, yes? That lovely red-haired Farstrider that would come to the market in the village? I watched a group of zombies rip her intestines from her body and chew her ears off at the gates of the Capital. Such a lovely thing.”  
“That...isn't fair.”  
“If there is anything I've learned from the destruction of our homeland to working with the Forsaken, Life itself is not fair, Talanye.”

Azalian took each stone stair leading them to the third floor with hardened purpose, his footsteps echoing against the walls as he walked in anger. This was a conversation he hoped he never would have had to have in his remaining life and potential Unlife if the time ever came for him to be raised in Undead. The grip around his scrolls was tightening with each new verbal spat they had, as if the words would ease the last decade of grief. 

“Yet then there was the attack on Dalaran, I didn't hear from YOU then either. You could have reached out, the attack wasn't too long after Quel'thalas.”  
“Well EXCUSE me for not sending a carrier pigeon with a perfumed letter, I was only dealing with the aftermath of our nation collapsing. I see you never had to deal with the pain of nearly becoming a Wretched from lack of magic.”  
“You...almost became Wretched?”  
“Oh yes, it's a wonderful process to come back from. So glad I didn't lose my backside.”

Jokes, they were getting somewhere. Talanye figured if they kept hashing out how they felt, maybe he could get a breakthrough. If he had known Azalian was alive, he could have brought him to Dalaran. They could have had those dreams still for each other. It was worth the shot. The third floor, mostly carpeted, dulled their footsteps as they passed the Opera hall. Spirits would often gather here to watch the plays that had once been performed here. Today, it was empty and as hollow as the space that formed between the two elves.

“I-uh for one am glad you didn't lose your backside either.”  
“Don't change the subject. I heard Dalaran enclosed itself after their attack and shut off all communication to the outside world. So that is not my fault, plus I didn't even know you were still alive either.”  
“So what we're saying is...we didn't know each other was still alive, we're here now, reunited, why are we still angry?”  
“Because...you don't just get over nearly seventeen years of abandonment issues and a broken promise....”

As the pair reached the final staircase to take them to the Menagerie, Talanye stopped on his stair and spun around to the Priest behind him. He look down at him, head tilted to the side as the Priest looked up at him. He looked flushed in the face, from either the emotional toll this was taking or the walk through Karazhan as a whole. Talanye stood firm, eyes narrowing and his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“I promised you I would return when I was worthy of sharing my life with you. I'm sorry I...took too long to get there.”

The Mage saw the flash of emotion in the Felgreen eyes of the other, yet before the Priest left emotion overtake him he shut those eyes and took a deep breath. “...we have work to do, Telemancer.” Azalian said softly but sternly, head dropping to look down towards the stone stairs as Talanye resigned himself to the possibility their time really was over. Blue eyes shut and he nodded, turning again to continue up the stairs as he led them onto the fourth floor.

The menagerie had a few living attendants from Dalaran now, the Curator shut down temporarily as they worked to stabilized it from running rampant again. They showed the pair into the newly discovered wing of the library, freshly dusted and illuminated by floating candles. Azalian walked through the passage as Talanye discussed their stay with the attendants, taking mental notes of the distinctions between which sections would interest his research or not. Surprisingly, the bookshelves were organized and cataloged. He wondered if Medivh did this or the attendants. It would reduce the time they spent searching for the tomes he would have needed, regardless.

The Priest set his pack and scrolls down on the nearest desk, lined with a few simple wooden chairs and turned to the Mage now approaching him. Talanye's face smiled at him, yet not with the same hopefulness he had earlier in his eyes. It seemed defeated, as if he had steeled himself in the knowledge that their time together was something long since past. Azalian, too, took a deep breath through the nose and accepted the current task at hand.

“We're got a lot of work to do.”

The pair would spend the next seven hours withdrawing tomes, reading them, taking desired notes, and slipping the tomes back safely to their homes on the shelves. They did so carefully, Talanye inspecting for latent magical wards with each new tome he selected to present to the Priest. Azalian would sketch out diagrams in his scrolls, writing down lost knowledge of proper boiling times and measurements for new elixirs to bring home to the Undercity Royal Apothecary Society. They barely spoke a word to each other other than the occasional word of thanks or of want of something. They ate in silence during their meals, Talanye would conjure breads and drink for them as they deciphered into the late evening hours.

Azalian was the one to call their research closed for the evening, his back and wrist sore from writing but satisfied in his findings. He left his purple quill as a make-shift bookmark in a particular tome on the benefits of certain Pandarian herbs to aide in mixing paralysis tonics, Talanye busy conjuring up a magical tent for them right in the middle of the Library. The attendants would leave them be, as discussed prior to their entry, but they were only given a two-day-one-night stay to get what they needed. Azalian felt good about the time crunch, he was already well ahead of his own expectations. A trip to Northrend for more Lichbloom and Icethorn were in his near future it seems.

Talanye's tent looked more like a typical camping tent you would use in the woods, but he had glamoured the inside to be nearly twice the size. Comfortable, even. Two wooden cots with sheets acted as their beds, a couple small chests and a washing basic provided them with all they would need. They each withdrew separately to bed, Talanye turning in first as Azalian organized the remaining tomes to go through. They bade each other a simple 'Goodnight' and when Talanye withdrew into the tent, Azalian felt the weight of his loneliness upon his shoulders.

He'd spent so long in the darkness, how could he ever think of rising up to see the moonlight again.

The Priest wandered over to the tent, slipping silently in to see the Mage resting on his cot with his back facing the left-over bed. Already deep in slumber, Azalian stood and watched him for a time as his shoulders expanded and retracted with every breath he took. His life had been such a disaster before he went to the Undercity; struggling through his withdrawal, learning the process of draining the magic from creatures while being a Priest was horrific, all while trying to deal with the knowledge that everyone he had ever known and loved was gone or worse. Part of an army of mind controlled undead killing their own.

Yet here was this sleeping Mage, a blast from his past, and all he could do was be angry and stuck in that emotion of resentment. He huffed his breath out through his nose and slipped over to his cot, undressing with each down to her small clothes and slipped into makeshift bed. Perhaps sleep would be a comfort, he highly doubted it.

~*~*~*~

_It was evening, very late. He was late.  
He shouldn't have been out this late, the mages of Dalaran were coming in the morning, he should be sleeping. Talanye sat on the bench by the beach, the air crisp with the evening chill as he stared out at Shalandis Isle across the river. Faint lights glittered across the water, the guards at their perch keeping watch. It was their spot, their little getaway area that met exactly halfway between their villages. He had been waiting for almost an hour and still no sign of him. Had he fallen asleep?_

_The sounds of running against the sand caught his attention, Talanye turning to see a lantern bobbing in the night as a brunette elf scampered over towards him. Clad in black trousers, a lavender silken shirt, and a hooded cloak Azalian always managed to take his breath away. The Priest-in-training waved frantically at him as he approached, sliding into the bench with ease until he bumped into his hip. “I'm sorry I'm late, Mother went to bed much later than I hoped. You know she hates it when I sneak out...” He whispered in the darkness, setting the lantern down on the sand in front of them to illuminate the pair. Talanye smiled at him, tired but relieved he was here. Azalian, blue-eyed and messy chin-length hair spilling everywhere when the hood was withdrawn, smiled back at him._

_“Shouldn't you be asleep? Dalaran Mages are coming for you in the morning.”  
“They are, but...I had to see you tonight. I'm not sure if there will be time to beforehand.”  
“Why Tal, you sound like your about to confess your undying affection to me. Here in the moonlight, on the beach, how romantic and swoon worthy!”  
“And what if I...was?”_

_The phrase caught the Priest off-guard, he had been playfully joking with the dark-haired Elf, he wasn't expecting such a serious answer. They had been playing this playful game of how-far-would-we-go as of late; a hug lasting longer than usual, the playful rear smacks, casual flirting turned into jokes, all for the sake of being within the others presence. Azalian turned in his space in the bench to face him, eyes full of curiosity as his head tilted to the side like a puppy._

_“...if you were, I mean...certainly would be the place to do it.”  
“It sure would, we basically grew up on this bench and in that sand.”  
“This isn't making sand castles and playing Find the Murloc though, what your proposing is...”  
“...is magical, to me anyway. I don't know when I would return, but the thought of you maybe waiting for me...is something I've been thinking long about once I received the letter of acceptance.”  
“You are serious...about us...aren't you? Your sister will kill us, you realize.”  
“I'd love for her to try. Do you think...you could leave space for me in your heart, until I return?”_

_Talanye had stood up to his feet, a hand outstretched to the brunette elf as if inviting him to join him in this promise. Azalian stared up at him and then down to the hand begging for him to take it, knowing what it meant if he did. His best friend, his longest friend in his life, would become something more than that. Could he actually go through with this? It was true, his feelings for Talanye were growing as they matured. The love he had for him had begun to twist and shape from a brotherly love to a...romantic love, long ago. He...loved this silly, portal-loving, and wickedly handsome dark-haired elf._

_He took his hand and stood up with the others help, eye level with him finally. Talanye closed the distance between them. He touched their foreheads together and took both of Azalian's hands in his. “...I promise to return to you, a man worthy of standing beside you and a man worthy of your affections. If you find yourself in a bind, I will be there no matter what with the whole damned force of Dalaran behind me.” He vowed to the brunette, and with a small press forward, he connected them in a soft kiss. Eyes shut gently as Azalian gasped against the lips, pushing back in earnest as his arms wrapped around the Mage's waist. Talanye's hands withdrew up to the brunette's face, cupping his head in his hands as he basked in their first kiss. It was warm, light, real. It solidified his promise to him, made it tangible and something to hold onto while he studied. Azalian broke the kiss first, only pulling away slightly._

_“.....don't make promises you cannot keep.”_

_Perplexed, Talanye pulled back to look at the Priest-in-training and the color vanished from his face.  
Azalian's head was in his hands, severed from his body somehow that lay strewn on the ground in front of him. Bloody gore leaked from the head in his hands as the expression plastered on his features was one of sadness and grief. Tears streamed down his face as Talanye screamed, his gaze looking out to see the mass of Scourge surrounding them as he clutched Azalian's head to his chest._

~*~*~*~

The mage awoke with a shudder, blue eyes wide with fear as he stared at the roof of the tent he found himself in. A nightmare, again, after all these years. He sat up, a hand reaching up to wipe the sweat on his forehead as he gathered his surroundings. His eyes wandered over to the cot to his left, brows furrowing as he found it's contents empty. The sheets had been messily tossed around, clothing on the ground indicated his companion had entered at least, but was no where in sight. A cold sweat broke out against his skin, his nightmare rolling back to the front of his thought. Talanye panicked and Blinked out of bed, pushing his way feverishly through the flap as he gazed into the dimly lit interior of the Library.

He found his target sitting at a desk a few feet away, scribbling away into a scroll in what appeared to be his bedclothes. A massive knot melted away from his stomach, Talanye taking a massive breath and slowly approached the Priest. Azalian kept his gaze on scroll as Talanye took a seat in the chair to his side, elbows on the table and face in his hands.

“...I guess you couldn't sleep?”  
“I rarely do anymore, must be a side-effect of living in Undercity. Why are you up?”  
“I had a...nightmare, saw you were gone and panicked.”  
“Panicked? What for, I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”  
“I was scared I lost you, again...”

Azalian's quill stopped writing. Felgreen eyes stared at the indigo ink on the parchment, the word 'degree' becoming highly interesting as he processed what was happening. His eyes shut again, the quill being tossed to the side of the desk as he leaned back in his chair. Long brunette hair fell back as he leaned back onto the two back legs of the wooden chair, staring at the floating candles above them. What did he want from him?

“...Telemancer, what do you expect from me?”  
“Oh by the Sunwell, call me Tal! Damn it be, call me Talanye! Don't treat me like some passing stranger in the woods!”  
“You ARE some stranger passing in the woods!”

Azalian's hands collided with the desk as he brought the chair back down in a fit of anger. He stood up harshly, the chair skidding against the floor as he pushed up onto his feet. He had had enough, how were they supposed to start things from where they left off? When so much destruction and death and abandonment had formed between them? How? Azalian turned to face Talanye, who had jumped to his feet as the sudden lashing out. He looked almost on the defensive.

“You didn't even bother to come home! You didn't bother to TRY to find out what happened to me! You believed a rough report of the total dead and left it as such! I sat in the ruins of our kingdom for five years! FIVE YEARS! I went to the Undercity to be of use to SOMEONE! As of late I've been struggling with the idea of feeling more Forsaken than Blood Elf, simply because they understand what it's like to be...forsaken by the people they love!”

Suddenly Talanye had crossed the distance between them and grabbed him by the shoulders. He jerked him roughly to face him, Arcane in his grip sending small shocks through his shoulders. The Priest stared at him at eye-level, hints of violet twinkling in the sea of Felgreen. There were lips upon his as suddenly as the hands were, and the years seemed to melt away. He stood in shock at this kiss, instinctively pressing back into the kiss with small sighs and mewls. He broke the kiss sharply, the sounds of their disconnect echoing around them. He narrowed his eyes at the Mage, who stood breathless in front of him and flushed in the face.

“How DARE you kiss me?!”

Azalian's arms stretched up and around Talanye's neck as he pulled him back into another kiss. It was Talanye's turn to be in shock, blinking wildly as the Priest deepened their kiss and pressed against him. He surrendered to the years of built-up feelings, arms wrapping tightly around the Priest as he twisted them towards the tables. He roughly pressed the Priest against the wooden table, pressing him backwards over it as Azalian gasped against his lips. He broke free of the healer's mouth and pelted kisses along his chin, marking him as he made his way to the crook of pale flesh where his neck met his shoulder. He dug his teeth in, biting and suckling at the space as Azalian cried out and clawed at his back. 

They were making up for nearly seventeen years of distance, of tragedy between them. They were denied a second kiss, a first real date, morning waking up in each others embrace, and night of wild passion. Talanye had dreamed of this, palmed at himself to the thoughts of doing things to this man, of what could have been. Of the places he would assault with his lips, tongue, cock. Azalian was panting above him, a long and helpless moan escaping him as he suckled hard at his neck.

There were hands pushing him away now, Talanye breaking free from the Priest's body and collapsing into the chair Azalian had been sitting in previously. Azalian partially sat on the table where his notes were now a mess on the table, Talanye in front of him in the chair hunched over at they stared at each other in their breathless panting. They radiated a beast-like lust towards each other and judging by the tent in Talanye's trousers, he was ready for round two. Azalian had other ideas.

The Priest's Felgreen eyes shifted suddenly to violet and the Mage suddenly became concerned. He moved to get up from the chair, but found himself suddenly unable to. He looked down, finding a pair of deep purple tentacles coiling around his ankles to bind him to the chair. He glanced up at Azalian in disbelief, who was now sitting fully on the table and unbuttoning his silken shirt. “Since when do you have Shadow powers?” He said, brows furrowing in confusion as he was forced to sit back down. The tentacles began to pull him forward, closing the small distance the chair had gotten from the table and Azalian. They left a small amount of space between them, but he was within touching distance of the Priest now, who cocked his head to the side as he slipped open the shirt to reveal the creamy skin underneath.

“My, the things we learn in the darkness. You'd be surprised with the things I learned from the Forsaken. After all, there can be no Light without Dark...”

Suddenly another pair of tentacles coiled up from the floor, snapping around the Mage's wrists and yanking him back to sit upright in the chair before restraining him against it. He tugged at the bonds, a brow raising as he realized the situation he had found himself in. His erection begged from release from his trousers and undergarments. “And what do you propose to do with me so indisposed?” He said, the scent of lust on his voice as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He watched as Azalian slipped off the table to turn around, back facing the Mage as nimble hands worked to pry the bed trousers off his hips. Talanye bit at his bottom lip at Azalian bent to lower his clothing, revealing a skimpy pair of black lace briefs hiding underneath that barely hid the pale skin of his backside. Talanye watched as matching thigh-high socks were revealed next and he groaned in response, watching as the Priest stepped out of the trousers and stood in front of him exposed. By the Light, it was an astounding turn on and he felt his cock throb in desire.

“Oh Azalian, I never dreamed you'd be this sexy...”  
“You don't know the half of it.”

Azalian wasted no time in getting to the point, he turned at the hip and helped the Mage wiggled out of his own trousers. He was greeted by a similar pair of lace undergarments on Talanye as well, who flushed in the face at the smirk Azalian gave him. “I guess after all these years, we seem to still be on the same wavelength. These are cute...” Azalian spoke softly to the bound elf, a fingertip trailing along the tip of his length and the...pale pink pre-cum pressing through the fabric? Perplexed, Azalian took a swab of it between his fingers and swirled the pre-cum against his skin. It felt...tingly? As if carbonated?

“Oh...I should mention my semen is tainted with latent Arcane energy from an experiment some years ago. Side effects are the color change, glowing effect and...carbonated sensation...?”  
“...you'll have so show me what experiment this was, but for now I know exactly how I want to test these results...”

The Priest dragged his finger across his tongue to taste the Mage, the light fizzle on his tongue an interesting sensation. He wasted no time in straddling the Mage's lap, pressing their lengths together trapped behind their respective lace undergarments. His hips rocks forward, running stimulation through both of them and caused a groan to slip past Talanye's lips as he watched from his trapped position. It felt...incredible. Watching this Elf, whom he thought long since dead, rocking and grinding against his hips and erection, making him moan. This elf from his past, finally close enough he could feel his panted breath on his lips. 

And he couldn't touch him, damned Void.

Talanye struggled against his binds, whimpering softly as he rutted up with his hips against the Priest's rocking. A soft chuckle slipped from the Priest, who pressed their chests together and captured the Mage in another kiss. His tongue danced into the Mage's mouth, his eyes peeking open gently to narrow his gaze at the flushed Mage lashing against his tongue. His arms wrapped around the neck as he ground into the weeping erection, the fizzy-sensations making his own length twitch as it mixed into his own.

_'Naughty, naughty...that'll get you a lashing...'_

Talanye's eyes flashed open, breaking the kiss and began to breathlessly look from side to side. Who was with them? _'Relax...let Azalian take over...'_ The echo-drenched voice returned again, but he couldn't place who it was coming from. It felt as if...it was in his head? He turned his gaze back to the other elf, who had began to pry his erection free from his undergarments. The Priest's own lace had been discarded when he had stood up, the violet tinted eyes locked on his gaze. It couldn't be...?

_'...that's it, love....let your guard down...'_

“H-hey....is that you putting the Whisp-hnng...”

Azalian had returned to his place upon the Mage's lap, but on the way down impaled himself upon the Telemancer's length. The Mage nearly came right then and there, the tight heat melting him as the Priest descended around him. Soft mewls slipped from Azalian until his backside nuzzled against the Mage's upper thighs, grinding against the shaft inside him as he adjusted. The fizzling of the arcane pre-cum inside of him sent shivers through his body, causing him to tense up around the length. He smirked wickedly at the groaning Mage as he moved to draw his hips up.

_'..mmnn...don't worry...he'll do everything...'_

The Priest descended harshly once he had reached the tip of the Mage's erection inside him, beginning to strike up a rhythm of his bouncing on Talanye. Talanye, on the other hand, couldn't believe the sensations threatening to melt him to the core. He was fucking the first man he ever fell in love with, he was so tight around him with every bounce, it begged for him to cum at any moment. The binds around his wrists and legs were tightening around him, holding him still as the Priest used him. It turned him on more, the inability to touch this elf, to be stuck in this damned chair, not in control. Azalian seemed to be enjoying himself, his erection bouncing off his stomach and splashing his own juices onto the Mage's shirt. 

The pair of elves stayed this way for a while, the Priest riding the Mage trapped in his chair. Azalian would be the first to show signs of eventual release, the violet in his eyes beginning to fade as his connection to the Shadow diminished. He could never hold onto the Shadow for long, and when Talanye sensed the shadow magic weaken, he broke through the bonds holding his wrists. He lashed out and gripped the Priest at his cheeks, forcing him down harder on his shaft and causing the brunette to cry out in pleasure. The Mage slapped at the round cheeks, squeezing them, nipping hard at his collar bone and neck. He would enjoy himself this night and make up for lost time.

Azalian's grip around Talanye's neck tightened as he cried out into his ear in gleeful release, his erection spilling out the results of his coming onto his bare stomach and the Mage's shirt. It didn't take long for the Telemancer to follow suit, the hole clamping down around him caused him to spill deep into the Priest with a final thrust inside. The immense rush of the Arcane-laced seed made the Priest light-headed, the magical rush against his insides causing him to moan of with a shiver running through his voice. The remaining Void lashers holding Talanye to the chair legs dissipated, returning from whence they came as the Priest regained the full color of his Felgreen eyes. The breathless duo remained wound up in each other, sweat and cum mixing into the fabric of Talanye's shirt.

“...I suppose...I should withdraw from inside you...”  
“....only if you feel you must...”

Talanye chuckled as he eased the Priest's hips up, easing his sensitive shaft out of the warm cavern to disconnect them. He eased Azalian up onto his feet, helping him find his footing and the ability to move his knees before standing himself. He stretched, the audible sounds of bones popping as he looked the other elf over who had retreated to resting up against the table. The tell-tale signs of light pink cum was running down his thigh, no doubt from his used backside, soaking into the fabrics of the thigh socks he wore. Gods, it was turning him on again. Azalian caught his wandering gaze, his hand reaching out as delicate fingers snapped at him for attention.

“My eyes are up here, Talanye.”  
“Oh, but the view from down there is so appealing.”  
“A mess you made, I'll have you know.”  
“But it was worth it, if it means you'll call me by name...”

Azalian's face flushed and he gently nodded, the Mage closing the distance between them to ensnare the brunette elf in his arms and kissed him again. The pair retired back to their tent, now both exhausted and ready for sleep. Perhaps even the promise of round two. They slept nude on the floor after piling the blankets from both cots, Azalian wrapped around Talanye's body as he nuzzled into the Mage's scarred back. They had a lot to catch up on; the events in their lives that lead them to finding each other again. How Talanye got these scars. How Azalian refuses to go back to certain Mantid-filled Pandaria areas. They would have to start from scratch, but it seemed both were willing to take the time.

Talanye woke up first the following morning, noting the feeling of Azalian's morning erection pressed along the crevice of his backside. The head had wedged itself between the cheeks, pressed against the skin just about his own entrance. He smirked and spat into his palm, reaching behind him to lather up the Priest and eased the healer's erection inside himself. It was his turn to take the other for a ride. It didn't take long for Azalian to awaken from the tightness of the Mage around him and the pair attended to their morning erections together. It was quick, it was simple, it was without the help of the Void. Azalian spilled inside of Talanye, the Mage on his side with his leg held up as the Priest thrust into him and spilling his own Arcane seed in his hand. 

Tired again, the pair chuckled together softly and remained tangled up in their sheets and bodies for a few more hours. They would rise, snack on breakfast rations, and return to their places at the table to finish their mission. Yet, it was different from the day before. They would kiss between books, rut against each other during breaks, enjoy each other as much as they could. Their time here in Karazhan was running out, they were to be escorted out come midday. 

As midday approached, they began to tidy up as per the request of the caretakers. Talanye disenchanted their sleeping tent while Azalian began to gather up and clean his scrolls and inkwells. He had managed to get some good notes afterall. The caretakers would wander in as scheduled, commenting on how the Library seemed to have gained a certain scent since the prior day. Talanye chalked it up to the stale pages of the tomes being opened, Azalian chuckling next to him as the pair made their way out of the little library they called home for a day. They made their way back outside, the crisp air smelling refreshing as Azalian took in a deep breath. 

This time, he allowed Talanye to help him up onto their flight griffin when offered. The Mage nuzzled in behind him, fully up against his backside this time, and steered them through take-off to head back to Stonard. Azalian rutted his backside against the Mage's groin as they soared into the sky. Talanye wouldn't fall for this tease again. Once air-bound and steady, he pushed the Priest to bend forward and slipped his trousers down to expose his ass and hole for him. Talanye withdrew his own grown arousal once more and pierced into the Priest, fucking him atop the Griffin as they ventured back towards their destination. Short quick thrusts into the brunette had him cumming quickly, high in the air as he filled the squealing elf with his seed again. 

Stonard approached in the distance as Talanye pulled out and made himself decent, slapping the Priest's right cheek one final time before pulling up with his trousers. He held tightly around Azalian's waist as the griffin pulled into Stonard for a landing, trotting into the usual empty camp where the flight attendant was waiting to receive them. Reigns secured with the handler, Talanye slipped down from the griffing and helped the Priest follow suit. They nodded their thanks to the handler and made their way into camp. They walked close to each other, bouncing off each others arms as they strode through.

“So...heading back to Dalaran? I was instructed to transport you anywhere you desired to go.”  
“I'll be heading back to the Undercity, I have to hand in my findings to the Royal Apothecary Society for review.”  
“I suppose I should head back to the Dalaran Library, they must be besides themselves without me.”  
“A handsome face is always hard to miss.”

Talanye began to conjure up the portal as requested, twisting the arcane with ease out here in Swamp of Sorrows and away from Karazhan's wards. The portal took shape, the glimmering landscape of the Undercity portal quarters visible in the gateway. Azalian took a few steps towards it, stopping midway before turning back to the Mage. Talanye looked downtrodden, watching the other once again slip away from his presence. Yet, this was by duty and not death. The brunette smiled full of understanding and hope at him. “You know where to find me, Talanye. I may work among the dead but I certainly am far from it. Plus...” He slipped a hand into his bag, pulling out a glass vile full of a familiar pink liquid and shook it at the Mage.

Talanye blushed and reached out for the vile of his seed, how rude. Azalian laughed slyly and withdrew his arm, gripping onto the vial tightly. “Oh no no no, you're going in my collection of vials of importance. To not be used in experiments, but to serve as a reminder of our time here.” He explained, beginning to take his steps backwards towards the portal. Talanye let out a guttural laugh and reached a hand up behind his head, scratching at the base of the braid to his right as he watched the Priest approaching the portal.

“And how do I know your not going to make little clones of me with that?”  
“Don't you trust me?”

Talanye's laughter stopped as Azalian took his last step, about to enter the swirling portal that would separate them. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and met gazes with the Priest, beginning to nod gently in his direction. “....I have trusted you all my life, what makes you think I'd stop now.” He said sternly to the Priest, who grinned wider and nodded in return. Azalian bowed gently to him, pressed his index-and-middle fingertips to his lips and tossed the Mage an airborne kiss. “Until next time, then. Dark Lady watch over you...Tal.” He kept his eyes on the grinning Mage waving at him, taking the last step back as the portal engulfed him and shifted his presence back to the familiar cobblestone and dankness of the Undercity. 

Talanye dismissed the portal once the other has safely passed through, left alone again in the marshland of the Swamps of Sorrows. No, not alone anymore. He shut his eyes and took a breath, still tasting the Priest upon his lips as he ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip. He chuckled to himself as he teleported himself back to Dalaran, there would be a few of his own questioners to attend to when he arrived back in the Violet Library. Both arms stretched up and hands behind his head, he began his climb up the staircase to resume his duties a rather content and happier Mage than when he left.

Dark Ranger Zyndra was waiting for Azalian at the base of the Mage Temple where all portals to the Undercity let out, her hooded gaze wandering up to him as he descended down the stairs. “So, how did it go? Was the guide as old and pompous as I imagined?” She said through in her usual raspy tone, escorting him back in the direction of the Apothercarium. He smirked at her, tucking the vial of Talanye's semen back into his bag. “Actually, Zyndra...he turned out to be young, handsome, and quite reliable.” He said simply, Zyndra letting out a loud gasp and continued on her way. 

Azalian stopped following the Dark Ranger as he thought about the Mage, clutching the straps of his bag tightly at his chest.  
He had lived so long in the Darkness, he had almost forgotten what it meant to...feel.  
This time with Talanye reminded him that while not all scars heal properly, the ache can be eased and remedied for the better..  
Resolve returned, he jogged after the Dark Ranger beckoning him and knew his time with the Telemancer was only just beginning.


End file.
